


Eclipse

by ellerkay



Category: Angel: the Series, The X-Files
Genre: Crossover, Gen, M/M, Slash, though not till the very end
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-02
Updated: 2015-08-02
Packaged: 2018-04-12 15:29:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,071
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4484663
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ellerkay/pseuds/ellerkay
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set during <i>Angel</i> episode 4.13, "Salvage." Mulder and Scully go to investigate why the sun has been blotted out in L.A.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Eclipse

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted to write about Mulder and Wesley making out. I ended up spending a whole lot of time writing the setup and ended up with very little makeout. So, this is more of a fun character piece and unless slash really bugs you, it's probably enjoyable even if you don't care for the ship.

Scully took the plane tickets that Mulder was proffering. “L.A.?” she asked, without even glancing at the destination printed on them.

“L.A.,” Mulder confirmed.

“I take it you saw the news last night.”

“I saw it. ‘Localized abnormality’ my ass.”

“Maybe we should wait a couple more days; see if it clears up on its own.”

“Scully, the sun has been blotted out from the sky. Besides, these tickets are non-refundable.”

She sighed. “I’ll go home and pack.”

***

They watched silently from the plane as the aircraft approached Los Angeles. Ahead of them, the bright sunlight was abruptly cut off by blackness. There was no line per se, but the divide between day and night was clear as…well, clear as night and day, really. As they slid into the blackness, Mulder couldn’t repress a shiver. He looked at Scully.

“You’re not going to tell me there’s nothing here worth investigating, right?”

She shook her head, openmouthed. “It’s incredible,” she said. “What possible explanation could there be for this?”

Mulder looked back out the window. “I guess that’s what we’re here to find out.”

***

The airport was jammed with people attempting to get out of L.A. as quickly as possible. When they tried to rent a car, Mulder and Scully were informed that none were available. They stood for twenty minutes before they managed to hail a cab.

“Everyone’s trying to get the hell out of Dodge,” Mulder commented as they rode through the streets. Scully nodded silently. She looked a little pale and Mulder frowned. “You feeling all right?”

“Um – yes,” Scully replied quickly. “The darkness is….strange. I think it’s upsetting my internal clock. There’s bound to be a little jet lag, of course, but this…” She trailed off and Mulder allowed the silence to fall.

***  
After settling into the hotel, Mulder and Scully headed to a meteorology center downtown. The scientists inside were all running around frantically, ashen-faced. For all their movement, no one seemed to be getting anything done. Mulder watched one woman, her hair coming loose from what looked like was once a neat bun, type something rapidly on a computer, run to the printer and snatch up a paper, and crumple it dramatically and drop it to the floor. She burst out subbing and ran from the room.

What appeared to be a security desk was vacant, but a man in a lab coat was running by and he stopped to stare at them, looking confused. Mulder seized the opportunity.

“I’m Agent Mulder, this is Agent Scully. We’re with the FBI.” He flashed his badge. “We were wondering if you could tell us –”

“It’s not my fault!” the man burst out.

“Sir, no one’s accusing you of anything,” Scully said. We just wanted to know if you had any idea what – what’s going on with the sun.”

“Oh, god,” the man muttered. “Please, don’t ask me about the sun. I can track storm patterns all over the world. I can tell you what time the moon’s going to rise on October 13th, 2067. This equipment is worth hundreds of thousands of dollars!” He gestured desperately behind him. “Please, please don’t ask me about the sun.”

Mulder glanced at his partner. “Nice going, Scully,” he murmured.

“You don’t have any idea why this is happening?” Scully pressed.

The man shook his head helplessly. “It’s not an eclipse – they don’t last this long, and they don’t look like that! Besides, we would have known it was coming. There isn’t a storm, and clouds don’t – that can’t be a cloud! It doesn’t move! And it looks like it’s on fire.” He stared at them defiantly, as if still afraid they were accusing him personally of causing the phenomena.

“Well, you’re obviously very busy here,” Mulder said, leaning forward and handing the man his card. “Give us a call if you figure anything out.”

They turned and walked out. “What do you think, Scully?”

“Well, they’re understandably upset,” Scully said, looking up into the dark sky.

“Do you get the feeling they’re keeping something from us?”

“What? No.”

“Me either.” Mulder smiled wryly. “Refreshing, isn’t it?”

“I suppose so, but if they were, at least we’d have something to investigate.”

They reached the main road, which was jam-packed with cars at a standstill. Horns blared and people shouted at each other from their vehicles.

“What do you say, Scully – feel like taking a walk?”

***

“Are you sure you know where you’re going, Mulder?” Scully called from a few yards behind him. It was half an hour later and they had somehow ended up wandering among some old warehouses. Scully was wearing heels and her feet were killing her.

“Um…yeah,” Mulder said. His tone did not inspire great confidence. He disappeared around a corner.

“Scully – come look at this,” he called, a second later. She rounded the corner and gazed up in the direction Mulder was looking. Hung on one of the buildings was a large banner reading, “Welcome, Faith.”

“Surprise party?” Scully theorized uncertainly.

“Hell of a location,” Mulder replied. “And a hell of a night. Or day, I can’t keep track.”

From around a corner a little ways in front of them, they heard shouts and the sounds of a fight. Mulder and Scully drew their guys and charged around the corner where they saw a tall man with brown hair being attacked several other men.

“Federal agents! Freeze!” Scully shouted. The men turned and she gasped at the sight. There were three, and all of their faces were disfigured, brows ridged and massive and eyes yellow. The one in the lead grinned evilly, revealing sharp teeth, his canines twice the length of a normal human’s and ending in a wicked point.

“I never tasted a fed before,” remarked the one in front, and he and one of the others advanced. Mulder and Scully began firing.

“Find something wooden and put it through their hearts!” shouted the man with a normal face, who was still fighting one of the disfigured men.

“I kind of thought shooting them would do the trick!” Mulder yelled back.

“It won’t!” The man had a British accent, Mulder noted with some faraway part of his brain.

One of the men, or creatures, snarled and started to run at Scully. Just then there was a burst of light from one of the warehouses. The cloud formation in front of the sun dissipated and the disfigured men burst into flames and then exploded in a show of dust. Mulder and Scully stared, then Mulder looked into the bright sky.

“I guess it was day,” he said.

The British man glanced up at the sun. “Faith,” he said, and broke into a run. Mulder and Scully glanced at each other and ran after him.

“That would be Faith of the banner fame, I take it?” Mulder called.

“Sir! You need to tell us what’s going on there!” Scully shouted.

The British man glanced over his shoulder at them, but didn’t slow down. “There is an extremely dangerous vampire who may be about to kill a – a colleague of mine,” he said. “I have to find her.” He sped up and the agents followed fast behind.

Within a few minutes they came upon a girl in her early twenties, lying bruised and bloodied in a beam of sunlight in one of the warehouses.

“Faith,” the man said, kneeling at her side. “Are you all right? Can you move?”

“Five by five,” she said weakly, sitting up slowly and wincing.

“We need to get this woman to a hospital,” Scully said, kneeling on her other side and examining her swiftly.

“No hospitals. And who the hell are you?” the woman – presumably, Faith – asked.

“I’m Agent Scully, this is Agent Mulder. FBI,” Scully said. She looked away from Faith’s wounds and fully into her face for the first time and she got still suddenly. “You’re –”

“Wanted,” Faith said. “It’s kind of a nice feeling, in a way.” She looked at the British man. “Wesley, what the hell were you thinking, bringing them to me?”

“I didn’t have much of a choice,” Wesley replied.

Faith turned her head slowly towards Mulder and Scully, and despite her age and size and the fact that she could probably hardly walk right now, Mulder felt a chill run down his spine. This girl – this woman – could be extremely dangerous if she so chose.

“So, what are we going to do about this, guys?” Faith asked. “I can’t go back to jail right now. There’s something I have to take care of.”

“Then Angelus is –” Wesley started.

“Alive and well. Undead and well. You know what I mean. Up and about. But he did kill the Beast for us. Hey, maybe he’s reformed.” She smiled faintly, then winced again.

“ _Angelus_ killed the Beast?”

“Excuse me,” Scully broke in loudly. “We’re taking you to a hospital, and then we’re going to turn you over to the police.”

“Scully, wait,” Mulder said. “I think there’s more going on here than we understand. Remember the guys who exploded into dust?”

Scully hesitated. “Mulder –”

“Listen, here’s the thing,” Fair said. “I volunteered to go to jail. Turned myself in, this big dramatic gesture. I was trying to do the whole pay-my-debt-to-society thing. But there’s shit I have to do. And if you don’t let me go, I’m going to have to take you down.”

Scully had a hand on her gun and Wesley held his hands up in the air, sighing.

“Honestly, Faith, was that necessary?” he asked. “If you’ll come with us, we can try to explain. Agent – Mulder, was it?” Mulder nodded, a little startled by the intensity of Wesley’s blue-eyed gaze trained on him. “Agent Mulder is right that there’s a great deal going on here that you don’t understand. Please, won’t you hear us out before you turn Faith in?”

“This woman needs a hospital,” Scully insisted.

“I heal fast,” Faith said.

“She can’t go to a hospital. She might be recognized. We’ll go to my apartment and bandage her up.”

Scully looked at Mulder and he shrugged, trying to repress a grin. There was something about these two he liked. He had a hunch that they could trust them, and his hunches usually turned out to be correct.

Scully sighed. “Fine,” she agreed. “I’m a medical doctor. If you have supplies, I can treat her.”

***

Despite Scully’s protestations, when they arrived at Wesley’s apartment Faith insisted on simply taking a shower. After Wesley returned from getting her a towel, he and Mulder and Scully stood in awkward silence for a moment.

“So –” Scully started. From the bathroom there came a loud cry and the sound of something breaking. All three ran to the door. Scully pushed past the men and entered.

“Faith? Are you okay?” she asked. She saw the girl deliver a punch to an already-decimated wall, as the water ran pink down the drain.

“I’m fine,” Faith said hollowly, not looking at Scully. “Just working out a little frustration. Tell Wes I’m sorry about his wall.”

Scully blinked and backed out the door. The three of them walked slowly back towards the living room.

“Mulder, I think she punched straight through that wall bare-handed!” Scully hissed.

“Slayer strength,” Wesley said. He gestured to the couch. “Please, sit down. I’ll try to explain.”

***

“…And that, in a nutshell, is why we cannot allow Faith to go back to jail,” Wesley finished, twenty minutes later, after a tale so full of magic, drama, plot twists, and intrigue that the agents could barely follow it, much less comprehend it. Wesley’s lips twitched slightly. “Any questions?”

Scully and Mulder were agape. At his last words, Scully shook herself. “You expect us to believe that?” she demanded.

Mulder leaned forward. “How do you know about all this?” he asked.

“Mulder, you can’t possibly believe this man!”

“Scully, we saw two men explode into dust! And that girl punched through a tile wall. Did she really look strong enough to be capable of that without mystical influences?”

“I was Faith’s Watcher,” Wesley said in answer to Mulder’s question. He grimaced. “Not a very good one. Watchers are charged with guiding Slayers in performing their duties. Directing them – well, that’s how it always used to be. That’s changed in recent years, thanks to the other Slayer.”

“I thought you said there was only ever one,” Mulder said.

“That’s another long story.”

“Huh.” Mulder smiled faintly. “An interesting one?”

“I would say so.”

“Why don’t you tell it to me over a drink?” Mulder asked. “I don’t know about you, but I could sure use one.”

“Mulder!” Scully said, horrified.

“Oh, sorry, Scully. You want to come?”

“We’re on assignment!”

Mulder rose and glanced out the window. “Sun’s here. And we know why it disappeared in the first place. I’d say our job is done.”

Scully frowned. “There’s a dangerous fugitive destroying walls in this apartment.”

“She’s not dangerous,” Wesley broke in. “Not to humans, anyway. Well, not anymore.”

“You can stay, and make sure she doesn’t escape,” Mulder said. “Maybe try and get her to accept medical attention when she’s out of the shower.”

Scully seemed to be too stunned (and probably angry, Mulder thought) to protest further. She watched them go.

***

“So, do you know where there’s a good bar around here – uh, Wesley, wasn’t it?”

“I certainly do. Probably too well,” Wesley replied. “And it’s Wesley Wyndham-Pryce. Do you have a first name, or do you simply go by Agent Mulder?”

Mulder winced. It was subtle, but Wesley caught it. “Fox. I go by Mulder.”

“Mulder it is, then.”

After walking a block or so, Wesley directed them into a small, dark bar. Mulder raised his eyebrows at the dirty windows, but inside he was surprised to find it tastefully furnished and clean.

“What are you drinking?” Mulder asked.

“Scotch,” Wesley said to the bartender, who nodded. Mulder took a minute to scan the beers they had on tap and selected an IPA from what the bartender said was a good local brewery. When they got their drinks Mulder handed over his credit card and told him to open a tab.

“That’s not necessary, really,” Wesley said as they made their way to a table in the back.

“Expense account. Don’t worry about it.”

“Alcohol is an expense?”

“It is now.”

“I’m so glad to see how my tax dollars are being spent.” They seated themselves and sipped their drinks in silence for a minute.

“So, what exactly is it that you do at the FBI?” Wesley asked.

“I was assigned – well, I kind of assigned myself – to a project called the X-Files. We investigate unexplained phenomena. It’s usually paranormal, not that anyone believes me on that.” Mulder grimaced.

“What do you mean?”

“Somehow, I usually end up with no proof. Sometimes no explanation, or only one that’s deeply unsatisfying.”

“You’ve got your partner to back you up.”

“Scully isn’t a believer. You heard her back there – she can hardly believe _you_ , and the proof’s right in front of her eyes. Plus, I seem to always end up seeing more than she does. It’s really irritating.”

“I can imagine.” Wesley thought. “You know, I’ve got texts that might help explain some of what you’ve seen. I doubt they’d be admissible in court, but it might give you some answers.”

“Really? That would be great, thanks.”

“Not a problem. I owe you for the drinks, after all, and for not arresting Faith.”

“No, I owe you!” Mulder said, so fervently that Wesley looked surprised and Mulder quickly returned to his usual monotone. “It’s just that…I’m so used to the truth being obscured, if not erased altogether. It’s…nice, to have everything laid out in the open for me.”

“Well, you’re welcome,” Wesley sipped his Scotch and the silence was awkward. Mulder broke it with a still more awkward question.

“Look – I don’t mean to pry, but –”

“The scar?” Wesley touched the long, thin red mark that ran around nearly half his neck. “It’s a long story.”

Mulder watched Wesley’s fingers trace the length of the scar. “I’ve got time,” he said quietly.

Wesley shrugged. “Well,” he said. “I was kidnapping my friend’s baby – ” He stopped at Mulder’s horrified look. “I thought he was going to hurt him,” he explained. “There was a prophecy, which was confirmed by a talking hamburger.”

“Uh,” Mulder started. Wesley’s lips twitched, and Mulder was relieved. “Oh, okay. Funny.”

“I’m not joking, I’m afraid,” Wesley said. “But I’ll explain it, so you don’t think I’m completely mad.”

Somehow, Wesley’s telling the story of Connor’s abduction became a brief history of much of his time at Angel Investigations, as well as some of his life before. And Mulder found himself telling the story of Samantha’s abduction, as well as a few X-Files cases in which Mulder felt he came off looking especially heroic. Two hours and several rounds had gone by, and Mulder was feeling…impulsive. Wesley was speaking.

“God, I actually used to be near passing out from fear in any sort of conflict situ-” Mulder leaned in and kissed him on the lips. For a fraction of a second Wesley froze, and Mulder began to panic. Then Wesley was yielding and – even better – returning the kiss with greater force. He slipped his tongue into Mulder’s mouth and Mulder, mindful of their surroundings, had to turn a potential groan into a soft gasp.

Wesley pulled away slowly, and Mulder realized that he had put a hand on Mulder’s knee.

“I can’t help thinking…” Wesley said slowly, and Mulder braced himself, expecting rejection. “…how unfortunate it is that Faith and your partner are at my apartment right now.”

Mulder gave a little laugh, feeling light-headed. “I’ve got a hotel room.”

Wesley smirked. “They’re probably already wondering what’s become of us.”

“Scully hasn’t called…” Mulder pulled out his phone and realized there was no service in the bar. “Huh. Well, then again, she might have.”

Wesley leaned in, running his hand up Mulder’s thigh and burying the other in his hair. He kissed him soundly before pulling away.

“Call it a rain check,” he said, with another smirk.

As they went outside and started walking back to Wesley’s apartment, Mulder glanced up at the sky. The sun was still shining brightly. He wondered how often it rained in L.A.


End file.
